Round 1

Amidst the Whispering Woods' eerie silence, a crumbling stone tower loomed, its entrance sealed by an ancient rune-covered gate. Violet light pulsed faintly from the glyphs, casting a cold glow over moss-slick stones. Jeane Cromwell's wings extended slowly as she scanned the tower entrance with predatory focus, her dark skin reacting to the magic like a heartbeat. She traced the arcane pattern without fanfare, voice low as the spell unfolded her vision into its true spectrum.

Halie rested a hand on Merrin's shoulder, her voice measured and clear. "We go in together, but we need to know what we're walking into first." Seraphine used her divination to map the immediate interior, her hands resting on the cool stone as she channelled her arcane senses. The violet runes flickered in her vision, transforming into a complex web of energies swirling around the barrier. Varrika methodically inspected the perimeter, her keen dwarven eyes scanning every nook and cranny for signs of traps or hidden dangers.

As they prepared to enter, Jeane's fingers wove sigils that caught the failing light, gathering power beneath her palms in a familiar ache. Halie turned to face each companion, her expression grave but reassuring. "Every spell, every arrow, every strike—it counts." Merrin examined the gate, running her hands along the cracks between the stones, searching for irregularities that could indicate a pressure plate or hidden mechanisms. Seraphine's mind reached out, probing gently at the threads of power, looking for the slightest variation that might indicate a trap or ward. Varrika's weathered hands ran along the rough stonework, feeling for pressure plates or other triggers that could spell disaster.